Special Relationship
by Two-Eyed Charlie
Summary: Four-Part story. The JLA has a dangerous job; Batman knows it, Wonder Woman knows it, everyone knows it. And they know just as well that danger is often tragically unpredictable. Very loosely inspired by "The Sandbaggers" episode of the same name. [COMPLETED]
1. Chapter 1

**I don't just do funny, you know.**

 **Anyways, this is Part One of Two, and Part Two is coming soon (I swears to god. Like I know I've done this before, but I actually know what I'm going to write out after this to finish the story [obviously] and I even have parts of it jotted down, it's just that it's late as hell over here and I have stuff to do tomorrow and I'm a weenie, so finishing it tonight [it's morning now...like early morning, not late evening. Shit.] is just not going to happen). But it will happen soon! Maybe even tomorrow! Who knows!**

 **Also DC owns all things, he said begrudgingly since DC is a [REDACTED]**

 ***Oh and big thing here; this plot is only loosely based off one aspect of said episode of Sandbaggers, so (since the story is taking longer than I anticipated), don't feel the need to watch the episode to get an understanding of what's going, since this follows a totally different plot. Like still watch it if you want to see some classic British TV, but otherwise...**

* * *

 ** _Special Relationship_**

Bruce knew that Clark was standing behind him, that he'd _been_ standing behind him for nearly ten minutes. What Bruce had once dismissed as a clumsy aversion to stealth or subtlety had morphed into a recognition that Clark always announced himself out of respect for others—Bruce in particular. This was especially true when the situation called for someone to brave the grim spectre that the Batman had so expertly crafted for himself, and talk to him like a human being.

Batman alternated between appreciating the gesture and being irritated by it, but right now, he couldn't muster the energy to do either. Superman seemed to sense this.

"I'll do it Bruce. It won't make a difference to them if it's you or me."

Bruce didn't respond—didn't even move. The screen in front of him was as blank as his expression and his shoulders were as rigid as a statue's. If he had his way, he'd never have to move or think again—he'd remain in this bubble of unfeeling for the rest of his days where his brain and body refused to work, where the world sped by without him.

Clark hadn't moved either. Bruce could have stayed silent for another ten minutes, and Superman would still have waited patiently for an answer. He was always a good man—he was going above and beyond now, and Bruce knew it.

He just couldn't feel it.

"It has to be me," he finally said.

Superman didn't need anything further explanation. He nodded and sighed, and moved out of the way as Batman rose from his chair, his cape drawn around his shoulders like a black shroud, and started towards the door. The trip to the Watchtower's main meeting room, "The Hall", was only about two minutes at a normal pace. Batman's pace was as reserved as ever, but the trip felt like it took years.

The doors to the Hall parted, and both Batman and Superman stepped inside. It was empty and dark—felt like it was long abandoned despite the entire team having been present in it only a day ago. A computer sat idle near the far corner of the room—Superman followed his friend towards it.

With the press of a single button, Batman was connected to every communicator ever distributed by the JLA. There was a brief tone indicating that the connection was being established, and when it went silent, Batman leaned towards the microphone. Superman stood behind him, as stoic as he could muster, though he started to feel his steely exterior crack and splinter.

"This is a Priority One Update," Batman said. To the hundreds of heroes listening in, it was immediately apparent that something terrible had happened. They had all heard Batman's growl hundreds of times before, but for many of them, this would be the first time they heard the voice of what could only be referred to as 'Bruce Wayne'.

"At 0300 hours this morning, the Watchtower lost contact with Wonder Woman. As of four hours ago, we can confirm—" He paused, and Superman saw the bat-façade fully collapse as his voice dropped to barely above a hush, "—that she was Killed In Action. Oracle will have further details for all of you. Batman out."

He backed away from the control panel, and could think of nothing beyond staring at the floor. Superman, with trepidation, stepped closer, and nearly put out his hand in a symbol of comfort. Nearly—he found that he was on the verge of being overcome with emotions as well, in his own way, and he had vowed to use all of his energies to be there for Bruce. He knew what was going on in Bruce's mind—that every single detail of what had happened earlier that day was being analyzed with the thoroughness of a crime scene.

Then he saw Bruce stagger towards the viewing window, which now framed an earth covered in shadows. And in a silent cry of anguish, he saw Bruce break the bones in his hand as he punched the reinforced glass.

Over, and over, and over…

…

…

…

 ** _The Previous Day_**

 ** _"The Hall of Justice": JLA Watchtower_**

"I'm not sure I understand what the President is asking us to do," Superman said, staring at the figure of Sarge Steel and his half-extinguished cigar. It was a facetious question—he understood perfectly fine what Steel and by extension the President wanted from them, he just didn't like it.

Wonder Woman and Batman flanked him, sitting in their marked chairs at the JLA's circular table while Superman stood, his arms crossed. Neither Batman nor Wonder Woman looked any happier to be having the discussion that was ongoing than he did, though Batman was telegraphing his displeasure especially clearly.

"He's asking us to be his Wetwork lackey's," Batman said, answering for the newly-minted Under Secretary. Steel and Batman stared daggers at each other until the Secretary bothered to respond.

"We're not killing anybody, not if you guys do the kind of job you usually do."

"That doesn't answer the ethical questions," Wonder Woman said. "I thought President Horne was moving away from Luthor's legacy."

Steel sighed and spat his chewed cigar onto the floor. "Prince, you know as well as I do that the President has no say over his legacy—that's for the world to decide."

"It's _Wonder Woman_ ," she replied, with a tinge of ice in her voice. "I want to trust you Steel, considering all we've been through in the past. But you've yet to adequately explain why the Justice League is needed." Diana was normally a voice of calm in the Justice League and in the international scene beyond, valuing as always love and compassion over anger and hate—no matter how big or how small—and giving herself fully to the quest to create a world where those often neglected things, and not conflict and misunderstanding, ruled the day.

But even she had her limits, and what Steel was asking for carried with it serious questions.

"I'm asking you to what's necessary. Honestly, all three of you should know that. You've dealt with Tuzik before—you know the kind of hell-on-earth he's capable of even when it's just him and a couple of Biaylan wannabe Storm Troopers."

"So send in the Marines," Batman said. "I'm sure with all the black-ink spending your Department does that you've got more than enough toys for them to take down an entire country."

Steel's demeanor cracked. His fist drove knuckles first into the table as he pointed and snarled at Batman. "I'm not going to even dignify that you vapid ass. We're dealing with a Meta-human threat here."

Wonder Woman rose from her chair. "One that neither the CIA nor MI-6, CSIS, or Mossad can confirm. Direct action is risky enough without the Justice League becoming involved. If we're needed..."

"Pr...Wonder Woman, I wouldn't ask for your help if I didn't think I needed it."

Sensing an explosive situation, Superman stepped behind Wonder Woman and began slowly walking towards Steel, trying his best to appear as calm as possible in order to dial back the hostilities. Steel merely tensed, bracing himself for a fourth front to the argument. In a pre-emptive fit, he snarled in Superman's direction.

"You told President Horne that it was your moral responsibility to do everything in your power to protect the American people, Superman." Steel pointed directly at him. "We have a known international terrorist with known international contacts who might very well possess fully weaponized Meta-human's in some capacity or another. I was there when you gave the President your word, so I'm here now to make you act on it."

What had once been a gesture of peace turned immediately to a rush of anger, as Superman's face turned a shade of red and his teeth became bared.

Steel had very much crossed yet another line.

"I said _all_ people, not just Americans. And I explicitly added that most of the time, the moral thing to do is completely removed from throwing punches."

"And is not acting the moral thing to do Superman?" Steel said, getting his cigar-stained face closer to the Man of Steel's.

"Not without more information! It shouldn't take all three of us to make that clear to you!"

Steel's retort was lost as Batman's attention drifted to Wonder Woman. She was still standing, but her eyes were locked onto his—a silent conversation. And Batman understood it perfectly: Steel wasn't going to let up, nor would the President. And while what they were asking for went far beyond any of their comfort zones, they begrudgingly had a point—if General Tuzik (or whatever moniker he used now) really was in possession of some sort of Meta-human, one he had bent entirely to his will, then he was absolutely a threat, and a grievous at that. One that would likely involve the entire JLA in the future if they didn't act pre-emptively, and most certainly result in thousands of causalities.

She could do reconnaissance, she said silently, scope the situation out, just her and her alone, and report back what she found. With her diplomatic prowess she could easily respond to the Bialyan government should she come into contact with them, even appropriate them to her cause if needed. And she was the most skilled fighter in the JLA—strong and fast and above all smart. If there was indeed a Meta-human threat, she could hold her own, at least until back-up arrived.

She was as knowledgeable in the art of war as she was in peace, and though she may not have had the stealth of Batman, she was blessed as a hunter, and could work quietly from the shadows as long as needed. Wonder Woman was the single most qualified individual in the JLA for this job, and it was a job that, the more Batman's cynical mind mulled over it, likely would have to be done.

But it was dangerous—more so than normal. She'd be alone, behind enemy line, completely blind, and facing off against one of the cruelest and most dangerous madmen out there, official military rank or not. The possibility of something going wrong was higher than he felt comfortable analyzing. He told her as much in his own silent way.

 _I don't care_ , she said back.

There was something else he wanted to "say", something that brought the totality of his cynicism to bare. But he said nothing. Now was neither the time nor the place.

Batman sighed, and folded his hands out in front of him. "Wonder Woman will go," he said, and both Superman and Sarge Steel paused from their argument. Superman's mouth was agape and ready to protest, but Steel—after adjusting his lapels and huffing audibly—cut him off.

"'Bout time you saw reason," he said.

Batman gave Wonder Woman a look, and Wonder Woman leaned further over the table. "I'll go," she said. "But I'm merely doing reconnaissance. At least until I can confirm whether or not there's any threat that requires our kind of overwhelming force."

"We have good reason to believe there is," Steel said.

"But we don't," Batman said. "And until we do, that's the offer. Take it or leave it."

Steel didn't hesitate. "I'd be awfully dumb to push this any further. It's fine by me." He turned to Wonder Woman. "I'll let you handle logistics yourself. Helps D.C wash their hands of this completely—not that I think you'd be willing to follow a CIA handler anyways."

Wonder Woman nodded. "Then I'll go prepare my gear." She turned to Superman. "I'll trust you to see him out."

Steel coughed and shook his head. "I'll let myself out thank you very much." He pulled out another cigar, flicked open a lighter he pulled from his breast pocket, and lit the end as he walked towards the room's exit. He stopped just as the doors parted, and turned back to the table with the three heroes standing around it, looking like antiquities myths. "Your country thanks you Wonder Woman," he said. He turned, the glowing ember of his cigar the only source of light in the darkened hall, and disappeared around the corner, a trail of echoing footsteps in his wake. Wonder Woman waited until the doors had shut again to let out a pent up sigh of her own.

Batman sat in his chair, motionless, staring out the viewing window at the orange crest of the sun rising over the edge of the earth. It would be night in Bialya soon—likely a stormy one if he placed the countries location right relative to the swirl of white near the north of Africa. Difficult conditions for a normal human, but for an Amazon with advanced senses, the rain and the thunder and the wind might just provide her with the extra cover she needed to stay safe.

He wanted to curse himself for thinking that—for thinking that the most capable member of the Justice League needed extra protection. But the claws of something insidious had latched themselves onto his gut, and he could feel his paranoia begin to bubble upwards.

Batman stood from his chair just as Wonder Woman approached him. "I'd never trust the CIA, no," she said, "but over watch would be appreciated."

"I'll monitor things from up here," he said. "Try to paint you a clearer picture."

"I leave my safety in your very capable hands," she said, lightly squeezing his shoulder. "I'll get ready and come see you before I deploy. If I'm lucky, we won't have to go over much."

"Understood Princess," he said, and he turned to watch her leave the room—always graceful, always full of energy, and always ready to do as much good as possible. Steel was lucky to have her on his side...

He felt Superman walk up behind him, and turned to meet his concerned stare.

"This is dangerous. Even by our standards."

"I know."

"If something goes wrong down there—"

"I know, Clark," Batman cut in, his voice rising. "I know…I'm well aware of the possible trap she's walking into."

"It's not even a trap, it's a firing squad. Or at least the spectre of one."

Batman had a list of objections he wanted to make, that he _needed_ to make. But not here. Not with Clark. Superman would be worried enough as is, and for Bruce to share in his discomfort...that would only make things worse. To say nothing of the fact that while he was up in the Watchtower, keeping an eye on Diana's mission, Clark would no doubt be whisked away on some unrelated mission, a mission that needed the Man of Steel to have a clear head.

So Batman bit his tongue...

"If anyone can do this Clark, it's her. I meant it when I say this—she's the most qualified person here for a job like this. It's not even close."

Superman sighed and rubbed at his elbow. It was his turn to stare out the viewing window, and for once the sun did nothing to comfort him. "I get it. But she's our friend first Bruce, and I know you especially—"

It was Batman's turn to place a hand supportively on a shoulder, and as he did he looked Superman directly in the eyes, inviting him to look past the white and into the blue that was Bruce Wayne. Swallowing every ounce of doubt and every murmur of paranoia in one protesting and painful inhale, he said, "I won't let anything happen to her. I promise Clark, on the grave of my parents, I won't let _anything_ happen to her."

 _ **End Part One:**_

* * *

 **I'm a sucker for British television just as much as I am for a well-written thriller; film, television, literature or otherwise. And while Sturgeon's Law reigns supreme (as it does with any literary genre; and yes that includes so-called "literary fiction" as well), there's always something in some medium that makes me smile.**

 **"The Sandbaggers" is one of those things. The "anti-Fleming" in every sense of the word. Remarkable show.**

 **So yeah, this story is based off the Series One finale, "Special Relationship". It inspired me to write something using other characters I don't own. Hope you at least somewhat enjoyed it.**

 **And naturally, Part Two will be coming soon (edit* as will part 3, the finale)**


	2. Chapter 2

**So...this isn't tomorrow. Obviously. Apologies; some stuff...came up.**

 **But here it is; Part 2 of 3 in this brief saga of...characters doing stuff!**

 **Wooooeee!**

 ***I'm going to warn everyone right now though; the thoughts and expressions in this story are not necessarily that of the authors. Really. All I did was think "ok, for the themes of this story, in this situation, what would this character think/say?" and then just put it down on paper.**

 **It's not a political manifesto; it's my attempt at making a story with a little bit of depth to the thinking beyond "oh my I do hope they dumb uglies at some point!"**

 **Which is why this ended up being two parts; I had to nail all this down, but didn't want to wait for the entire story to be completed because I like whoring out for reviews/favorites.***

 **So yeah...**

 **Oh and you're probably saying "wait, part 2 of 3? But I thought this was only a two parter?"**

 **Well...this part got a lot longer than I thought it would, so I figured "meh; cut it off here. What's the harm?"**

 **Sorry about that...**

* * *

 _ **Part 2**_

 ** _JLA Watchtower: Wonder Woman's Orbital Residence_**

 ** _30 Minutes before deployment:_**

Compared to the glare of the Watchtower's lighting, Wonder Woman's armoury seemed strikingly dark to Batman—no small statement considering his natural predisposition. The room was small (relative to her primary armoury in the bowels of the Themysciran Embassy in New York) but functional. The weapons Batman catalogued in his mind as he passed (heading towards a thin sliver of light near the rear of the room) ranged from defensive shields to a battle axe with enough heft to crush a normal person.

He'd have to ask her what kind of trouble would warrant a weapon of that size, followed by an extensive researching session disseminating whether it actually existed or not. And if rockets might hurt it.

Diana was packing light, he saw, but being as prepared as an Amazonian warrior ought to be, she had slipped a recent invention of hers (a spring-loaded blade tipped with an acute poison—not deadly but rather a fast paralytic agent) into a sheath on her thigh. Diana of all people would likely know how quickly plans could change on a recon mission, so this wasn't unexpected. Deep down, Bruce had been hoping she might bring more along with her though. Maybe the axe.

She heard his footsteps enter her little enclave near the back, and looking up from her boots she flashed Batman a smile.

"Just that and the lasso?" he said.

"Shouldn't need much more, unless you know something I don't," she said.

Batman glanced around the room. "I don't know much about this mission _period_ , unfortunately."

Rising to her full height, she crossed over to Batman and gave him a quirked-brow stare. "Bruce, are you really going to make me say it?"

"You mean: _I worry too much_?"

"Well, are you?"

"I just said it for you…"

Chuckling, she placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "No sass mister, just truth. Are you?"

Batman paused for only a second, and responded with a lowered voice. "I'm always worried. It's in my nature."

"You don't want us involved?"

"Do you?"

Diana's turn to pause—and she did so for far longer, rolling the question around in her mind as though it was a rare jewel. That was something Bruce very much admired about Diana—that when arrows or bullets or missiles weren't flying by her head, she'd take her time to think things through before answering.

No wonder the other diplomats couldn't stand her…

"I don't think we have a choice," she finally said. "Not with Tuzik. Loathe as I am to admit it, Steel has a point. A poorly presented point, but a point none-the-less." She crossed her arms. "Does the rest of the League know?"

Batman shook his head. "Not much choice there either. The League's spread halfway to kingdom come with one mission or another, and Clark thought he sniffed out some trouble in the Main Belt. All things considered, Steel's probably happy that it's just the two of us."

"That's always been more than enough," Wonder Woman said with a smile.

"I don't know—there has to be _some_ reason why we keep Clark around."

Diana's smile grew slightly larger. "Harsh. Hopefully Kal can't hear you from Mars." Uncrossing her arms, she extended out her right elbow, inviting Batman to lock his arm in between hers. "Walk me to the hanger?"

"Be happy too," he said, and with a smirk noticeable from the Earth's surface, Batman took her arm in his, as their matching booted echoes followed them into the Watchtower Proper.

It was empty, Batman noticed—far emptier than normal. And the air was stale, hanging like fine dust over them. He thought he was exaggerating when he told Diana where the rest of the League was, but evidently he was more on the money than he realized. They truly were the only two people on the moon at the moment.

The passed out of the windowless quadrant of the Watchtower and into one of the long stretches of hallway that afforded a starlit view of the Earth, just now peaking over the lunar craters like a perfect painting. Diana (like always) turned to give the view an approving smile, while Batman's eyes focused on the patch of white that engulfed the Horn of Africa. Still stormy, and shadows had begun to creep towards the swirling clouds as the pale blue dot spun. Batman let out a silent sigh—for once the elements might be in their favor.

Unconsciously, Batman melted away, leaving Bruce in his place—a mode of being that Batman saved for only his closest friends and most trusted allies. Diana was certainly both of those—perhaps more.

"You never told me what Steel did when he found out one of his agents was on the Most Wanted List," he said.

Diana smirked. "It was a scene to behold. There's nothing more potent to the composure of a high-strung man than being in the thralls of cognitive dissonance."

"That means he liked you then," Bruce said.

"He at least didn't hate me."

"People either like you or they're Dr. Psycho—Steel probably loved you."

Diana's smirk grew wider. "Are you putting The President of Corto Maltese in the same galley as Edgar then?"

"When you put it like that, I might have to apologize to the Doctor…"

With a chuckle, Diana tightened her grip on Bruce's arm, who responded with a full and honest smile—one of few he'd ever allow himself. He held it longer than normal—less a flash of humanity and more a sustained beam—but whether from muscle memory or just the strength of the Bat germinating the closer they got to the hanger, it slowly sank back into a neutral but serious resting position. Diana noticed this, and squeezed his arm slightly harder.

"As much as you dislike the man now that he's a political animal, he's as much an idealist as I am. That I can respect."

Batman grunted. "That's what worries me."

Beside him, he could feel Diana's stare turn questioning. He didn't think he offended her (he _hoped_ he didn't, at the very least), but her curiosity was none-the-less peaked.

"How so?"

Batman sighed. "There's a fine line between being an idealist and being an _exceptionalist_. The former is naïve, but the latter is downright dangerous."

He felt a tug on his arm as Wonder Woman halted their stride (just outside the hanger, he noticed). The look on her face was neither hurt nor angry, simply…curious. Maybe she was surprised he had said something like that, something he realized was as offensive as it sounded, the more and more he thought about it. He couldn't take his words back, and truth be told he didn't want to—he thought he was right, he just had to explain what he meant. Maybe she would see the truth in his words too, being the Spirit of Truth and all.

He hoped…

"I know you Diana," he said, his voice a little softer. "You and Clark see power as a means to pull good from any bad situation, and nurture it until it's a vibrant beacon for us all. And _you_ especially have made it your mission to teach other's how to do the same, to show them that compassion and peace are inseparable from truth." His eyes dropped behind his mask, and his voice darkened to a low growl not far removed from the voice he used on criminals.

"But men like Steel and Horne see power as a means to inflict on people, to push bad situation after bad situation on whomever they deem to be evil so long as there's a personal payoff that they can dangle in front of themselves or the public." He stiffened. "I should know—that was the only way I thought I could save Gotham." Pausing again, he unhooked his arm from Diana's and spun to face the Earth as the last bit of blue shrank behind shadows.

"It's _realpolitik_ —it's force projection on an industrial scale. And worst of all, they think it's the right thing to do. The only difference between them and Tuzik is we've all decided that it's alright so long as the flag has stars and stripes on it."

"But even you admitted that Steel is right to be nervous. He's on our side."

"This time, but that's only because we have overlapping interests. What about tomorrow? What about next week?"

Diana slowly walked towards Batman's side, and again her hand found his shoulder. She didn't say anything, though she knew exactly what she wanted to say and how to say it.

She just knew Bruce had to finish first. He did so as he turned to meet her eyes with his own cold and white stare.

"I don't know what you'll find down there Diana, but I know it can't be as bad as the fact that Tuzik isn't an aberration—he's the system personified. And right now, we're not just doing an errand for them—" he pointed at the JLA logo, specifically the large and embroiled _America,_ "—we're practically their _Black Hand_. If this sparks off an international incident—and we'd have to be damn lucky if it didn't—the implications for us, and _especially_ for you…" Batman trailed off, feeling his energy dissipate as a weariness of an aged veteran settled in its place.

He didn't know what her response would be—maybe a lecture on the inner workings of a system that she lived and breathed in, where as he merely critiqued from a dank and dark cave. If she had made a comment about criminal psychology or punishment, he'd certainly have fired back with something along those lines.

But all she did was smile, and Batman had to remind himself that maybe he didn't know Diana as well as he claimed.

"Are you sleeping better?" she asked.

"Pardon?"

"You were complaining to Kal that you'd gotten even less sleep than normal. Has that changed?"

He thought about it. "Yes, a little. Almost back to normal."

"And why's that?"

Again, a pause to think. "Less cases than normal. Gordon and the Mayor started a new task force that looks promising. And your EU talks…" He knew what she was doing, what she was getting at. His defenses and his wall of stubbornness snapped back into place, and his face hardened. "There aren't many Gordon's out there Diana. And…there certainly is no one like you."

He felt his cloak slide over his shoulders, and before she could say anything, his mouth opened to remind her of the time-window they were just barely able to squeak into—a way for him to end the debate before it got out of hand.

But again he was taken aback, as Diana merely leaned towards him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Pulling away, her lips passed his ear, and in a light voice—completely devoid of any mocking or anger or scorn, she said, "Then you really are as blind as a bat, Bruce."

She turned on her heel and started for the hanger. Craning her neck, she called back to Batman, who was statue still and trying desperately to hide his shock. "I'll establish contact when I'm on the ground," she said. "Better get to your station then, right Bruce?"

The doors slid shut, leaving Batman alone with the shadow-covered Earth, and it's millions of Tuzik's…

...

...

...

 ** _JLA Watchtower:_**

 ** _One Day Later:_**

Clark let Bruce smash the glass four times before he stepped in, grabbing a hold of his arm with just enough give that he didn't wretch Bruce's shoulder out of its socket on the follow through. Bruce was panting, his face twisted with pain, and yet again swallowing his own feelings and emotions, Clark released the arm and enveloped Bruce with his own.

Bruce didn't fight back.

"Is this the part where you say it wasn't my fault?" Batman said, almost like a challenge.

Clark remained quiet. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what to say—what he _could_ say—but he knew that Bruce had a backlog of pent-up aggression he needed to let out. Clark would just have to try and weather the storm.

 **"Is _it_?" ** Bruce's voice had fully given way to that of the Bat's, the voice saved for the prowlers and the murderers. Clark didn't budge.

 **"I gave you my _word_! And you were dumb enough to _trust_ me!" **

Spinning off of Bruce, Clark grabbed onto his shoulders and hoisted the man into to his feet. Taking care to keep his voice and his face from showing any anger (and yet still remaining forceful), he pushed Batman up against the cracked glass of the viewing window, and stared at him.

"That's _enough_ Bruce."

Batman wasn't done, however. **"You and I both stared her in the face while we let her march off to her death and of all the people who could have done anything—"**

"That's _enough!"_ Clark's emotional strength gave out, and with a snarl and a barely controlled muscle reflex, his fist collided with the glass just beside Bruce's head, splintering it like a flash of lightning as the glass groaned in protest. Batman stared at the seething Superman, and slowly his own red-hot anger drained as his head began to hang.

"—was me," Bruce finished, defeated.

Both heroes stayed silent, stuck in their positions like bugs in amber, until Superman sighed and pushed off from the window, allowing Batman to pass. He did, slowly, and walked to the central table, where just a day ago the three of them had fought with Steel, eventually acquiescing to demands that no one felt comfortable agreeing to. Batman slumped in his chair as Superman ran a hand through his hair.

"I get it," Clark said. "I get that you're mad and that you're beating yourself up over it. But goddammit Bruce—" Clark never swore—that got Bruce's attention, "—she was my friend too. And I was stuck a thousand miles in between Mars and Jupiter while she was dying. This is killing me too."

"I know," Bruce said quietly. "I'm sorry." His eyes dropped to the floor.

Clark sighed again and leaned against the cracking window. The Sun was just peeking up from behind the Earth, and its light looked warped and unnatural through the criss-crossing cracks and chips.

"First thing I did when I got back was go to Lois," Clark said. "That's…that's just my natural move I guess. She's my rock, and I needed one. And you know what she said?"

Batman didn't look up.

"She said that if we started blaming ourselves, we'd dishonor her memory more than any propaganda piece or tabloid hack-job could even hope to. She was the glue that held us together—we need to show everyone how much that meant to us."

"She's wrong," Bruce said, still looking at the ground. Superman, his emotions already frayed, gritted his teeth.

"No, she _isn't_ Bruce. If we start fighting now we spit in the face of everything Diana set out to accomplish."

Like a snapping spring, Bruce's eyes shot up to meet the Man of Steel's, and even behind the cold white of the cowl, Clark could feel nothing but disgust seeping through. " _They've_ already done that!" he said, pointing at the fragmented visage of the Earth. "They've already pissed on her grave and had drinks over her ashes! And you know what they'll do when we finally go public with this? Do you Clark?"

Clark was too taken aback to say anything.

"They'll _laugh_ at us Clark. They'll laugh because we were too stupid to not see this coming."

"What the hell are you talking about Bruce?" Clark said, starting towards the table. "What the hell happened?"

Bruce stood from his chair, roughly pushing it over in the process. With a finger nearly jamming into Superman's eye, he snarled and spat and let loose with all the fury he could must. "You want to know what happened Clark? What happened was, I was _right_!"

 _ **End Part 2**_

* * *

 **So yeah, Part 3 will be coming 'round the mountain soon. Just got a little more stuff to iron out, and then this nice little mini-series can be completed.**

 **Didn't think it'd be this lengthy when I started, but serves me right for thinking ahead. Hope you guys stay tuned for the next bit! It's the finale, I swear!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Goddammit I hate myself...**

 **Alright, I swear I'm not doing this intentionally, but I _really_ really didn't want to write a 9000-10000 word chapter. So...Part 4 it is then, I guess. **

**God...I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be Brian Michael Bendis here; I really DID intend for this to only be three parts (well...two...actually it started out as only one but...dammit).**

 **Sigh...part four, the honest to god finale, will be out soon. Feel free to yell at me.**

 **Also, heads up, but I have a very limited idea as to how nuclear power plants work, so if I've bunged up some of the details...err...don't yell at me too much. For that anyways. The other thing though...**

 **It's for a good cause, obviously.**

* * *

 ** _Part 3:_**

 ** _JLA Watchtower:_**

Superman froze, his mouth open and his posture rigid, as Batman hurled his chair across the room. Bolts pulled roughly from the floor clattered at the Man of Steel's feet, but Superman wasn't staring at the remains of the chair or the bits and pieces of the floor scattered about him—he was staring at his friend, who was stalking towards the room's exit with a look of murderous intent on his face.

He knew Batman well enough to be worried beyond belief. Pushing back shock and the lingering sadness (something which deep down he knew he was merely putting off due to the chaos of the past day), Superman materialized in front of Bruce, blocking his path to the door, and reach out an open hand.

"Talk to me Bruce," he said.

Batman growled and stared, daring Superman to stop him from leaving. Superman took that dare, and crossed his arms defiantly over his chest.

"What did you mean by—?"

"I'm going to see Hippolyta," Batman said, cutting Clark off. "Someone needs to tell her—"

"Don't change the subject Bruce," Superman said, regretting the increasing forcefulness of his voice, but finding no real alternative. "What did you mean when you said 'I was right'?"

Superman's question was met with silence—neither hero having changed their expressions or their positions. Clark knew he was playing with fire, that in his clearly distressed state of mind, Bruce was just as likely to turn nuclear as he was to utterly collapse. He doubted Bruce would show any emotion other than seething anger—not around Clark, not when he likely felt vulnerable enough already. He braced himself—preparing to roll with whatever punch Bruce threw his way.

But instead of seeing his muscles tense in preparation for a strike, he saw Bruce start shrink within his cloak, saw his eyes close beneath his mask. Batman sighed, and backed away, back towards the shattered remains of the chair he pulled from the floor. He stopped in front of the table, and for the first time that he could remember, Clark saw Bruce's shoulders start to shake.

Ever the master of his own body, Bruce noticed this as well.

"Last time that happened to me was when you died," he said, his voice an uncanny neutral. "When Jason died, I wanted to kill someone. But with you and Diana…" he paused, slowly turning to face Clark, "… I guess with you two, there's anger, but no one target to direct it at."

Superman uncrossed his arms and started to move towards Bruce. "No _one_ target? What do you…?"

Batman turned to face Clark, and with a razor glare cut the Man of Steel off. "The hardest fight of your life was against Doomsday. Mine—Bane. But Diana didn't just fight Kryptonian Predators or super-charged brains and muscles. Every day—every single goddamn day—she'd immerse herself in the putrid muck of a system designed solely to build walls and dig trenches to protect itself from people like her, people who wanted peace and justice and love and would give everything they ever had to achieve it." His hand whipped out of his cloak, and having no target to funnel his rage at other than the Man of Steel, his gloved finger pointed accusingly at the red and yellow emblem on Superman's chest.

"Every time she stood up to fight for the voiceless, she fought against hundreds of thousands of despots, wearing every flag imaginable, and with all the technology and money and credibility and _fear_ they could bring to bear on her." He paused, and Clark could see his eyes sag behind his mask.

"And not once did she ever back down. So they _killed_ her. In the end they finally just cut her out of the picture."

Superman rocked back on his heels as Batman pushed past him, towards the viewing window with its crystalline cracks. Batman's tone was biting but reserved, concealing a raging inferno that Clark couldn't help but be alarmed at.

But he knew Bruce wasn't done, so he held his tongue as Batman continued, now facing (and pointing) at the shattered image of the Earth. The same white cloud that hovered over Africa the previous day had moved over the East Coast of the United States, blanketing the region in heavy rain and artificial darkness.

Batman spoke in a lowered voice, but the way Superman saw him grind his teeth, the way his muscles were stretched in a silent rage, the Man of Steel knew that Bruce's anger was only growing.

"Diana was too good for this world. It didn't deserve her."

Clark shuffled forward. "Are you talking about the planet, or you Bruce?"

Batman shot him a glare over his shoulder. "Does it matter?"

"It does. Grieving is one thing, but holding the entire planet hostage over her death isn't what Diana would want."

Batman scoffed. "You just don't get it Clark," he said, heading again for the exit. "I'm going to find Hippolyta. She deserves to find out what happened in person."

Clark made no move towards the exit this time—instead he called out, his arms at his side, his expression confused. "What don't I get Bruce? At least tell me that much."

Batman stopped in the doorway, but didn't turn. "It wasn't Tuzik that killed Diana," he said. "It was the people who sent her there in the first place."

…

…

…

 ** _JLA Watchtower:_**

 ** _0100 Hours, the Previous Night:_**

Deep within the Watchtower, Batman sat at a series of blinking computer screens, each one showing a different view of the same patch of land over Bialya: thermal, enhanced, topographical, everything that both he and Wonder Woman thought necessary for overwatch. In the span of a few clicks on the computer's massive keyboard, Batman had turned the moon into a giant, near-stationary satellite.

There was a reason why Batman was the only one allowed in this room—the only two people he trusted with that much surveillance equipment didn't need it in the first place.

Each screen followed a small red dot as it bounded and shifted over the terrain. Wonder Woman was on foot—remaining low to the ground to avoid being spotted.

And with only a poisoned dagger, Batman reminded himself. Perhaps he should have installed a few more monitors before the mission…

Watching the screens, Batman felt his mind begin to drift back to his last conversation with Diana. He'd made no secret his reservations about the mission, and about his opinion of the people who had elicited them for it in the first place. That was something he never had a problem with—commenting on other people. It was his own feelings that he always kept hidden.

Not that he could ever keep them hidden from Diana though. He was sure that even if he developed some device that could neutralize her gods-given ability to seek out the truth, she'd still find a way to read him like an open book. It used to make him feel uncomfortable, but if he was to be honest with himself, it was sometimes relieving to be able to simply _speak_ and still have someone understand exactly what you meant, even behind all the rhetoric and posturing.

Certainly explained all the arguments they tended to have…

He wanted to believe her, or at least what she had implied—that there were still good people down there on that planet filtered through thermal scans and geographic dissections, even if they remained silent and stood aside, waiting for someone compelling and charismatic enough to coax them towards the path of good.

But it was so much easier to coax out the evil that lurked in men's hearts, something that Bruce had remained on guard for since the day he dawned the cowl. If anyone could fight against that, and _win,_ it was Diana. But she was just one woman—a remarkable, gifted, compassionate, godsend of a woman, but merely one woman all the same.

Alone against the dark hordes of planet—they were more alike than they even realized. Save for the fact that Bruce had faced the abyss as a young boy and was forever changed, while Diana had scared it away long ago…

A small burst of static erupted in his ears, and quickly his eyes darted back to the screens in front of him. Wonder Woman's dot was approaching the glowing neon line that signalled the start of what Steel had assured them was Tuzik's latest compound—the one with the purported meta-human threat in it. Adjusting the dial connected to his head-set, Batman listened in on Wonder Woman's transmission.

 _"I see a small pack of guards up ahead,"_ she said. _"Am I in the compound yet?"_

"Just entering it now," Batman said. "Only four of them on the radar so far. Lightly armed. Shouldn't be much trouble."

 _"I'll leave them be. For all I know they're four days from retirement."_

"Better to not tempt fate then," Batman said with a smirk. "Hang right into the tree line and move fast. The thunder should cover your footsteps."

The blip darted into the heavy foliage and disappeared from Batman's enhanced cut-out of the region. The thermal imagining had her sprinting fast through the trees, not one step out of place. Zooming in, Batman pressed against his headset's microphone.

"Two more columns up ahead, armour included."

 _"There's a large gust of wind incoming. If I shimmy through the tree-tops when it hits, I should be able to sneak right over without them being any wiser."_

Batman glanced at the weather sensors. "How do you know that?"

 _"A little bird told me."_

"Right. Forgot you had that power."

 _"I do too sometimes."_

As she had said, a gust of wind ripped through the tree tops just as Diana silently leapt into the canopy. The thermal dots on the ground barely twitched as she scurried above them. It was at times like these that Batman remembered her skill as a hunter, and he couldn't help but stare in awe.

 _Remarkable indeed…_

"You're in the thick of the compound now—guard density is about to hit critical. You have two points of entry, but Tuzik's prepared. Naturally." He pulled away from the zoomed in section of the map and scoured the area for a secondary access point. The region was well-fortified, considering how Tuzik likely converted it under great duress. He was smart—he'd know the JLA would be keeping an eye on him.

Yet another reason why Batman wished he had more equipment on him. Tuzik wasn't your regular costumed criminal.

 _"What is this facility exactly?"_ he heard Wonder Woman ask. Batman had the notes memorized, and rattled them off as though he was reading from a Wikipedia page.

"Nuclear facility, a gift to a great-full dictator some two decades ago. Medium size with a medium output, but it serves its purpose. Unlikely that it's creating weaponized uranium, no matter what the State Department thinks, so any meta-human threat is strictly conventional, if such a word can even be used to describe a meta-human." He paused and took a sip of his already cold coffee. "It's Soviet designed. Only semi-operational."

 _"Was that a shot at Soviet engineering?"_

"I'm old enough to remember Chernobyl," Batman said.

 _"And_ I'm _old enough to remember Hiroshima."_

"Touché," Batman said. His eyes started scanning the surrounding region again, when his brain hit upon an idea. "How susceptible are you to radiation?"

 _"Not very,"_ she said. _"Despite my consternation towards them sometimes, the Gods can be very forward thinking."_

Batman hummed to himself and steepled his fingers as he leaned back in his chair. "Then I'd recommend going in through the cooling tower," he said. "Internal schematics show that it's practically a straight drop into a large cavern, assuming you can fly and enter one of the main filtration shafts. If you can get in there unseen, you should be able to drop right on top of Tuzik."

 _"You're sure he's there?"_

"The buildings insulated from thermal, and even if it wasn't it'd just show a massive block of heat from the reactions. But the schematics Steel gave us seem to indicate that there's a large, hollowed area beneath the largest cooling tower where a extra generator would have been placed, but never installed." He grunted. "I'm... _trusting_ him on this."

 _"Many Bothans died to bring us this information,"_ Wonder Woman said.

Batman quirked a brow. "A _Star Wars_ quote?"

 _"Kyle lent Donna and I some of his DVD's."_

"Hmm. At least he gave you the _good_ ones."

 _"So you_ do _know pop-culture."_

"I dabble in it," he said lightly, and a small smile formed on his face as he heard Diana chuckle on the other end of the line.

The chuckle ended quickly however as training and levity took over. Batman lightly cleared his throat, said into the microphone, "If he's here, you'll find him in that cavern."

There was a pause on the other end of the line as Wonder Woman mulled the information over in her head. Batman waited patiently—his own mind formulating and shredding several alternative options over the duration of the pause. He kept coming back to scrapping the mission, to telling Steel that the JLA wasn't some private security force that he could call up to defend his so-called "shining city on a hill", but he would quickly push that into the back of his mind.

Diana was the best person for this job. No one else was even close. And even if he was sure Steel and President Horne were using them for their own gains, gains that Batman and Wonder Woman might find abhorrent in equal measure, they were right to fear Tuzik and everything that mad-man was capable of.

Damn how he hated moral grey zones…

 _"I have an idea,"_ Wonder Woman finally said. _"There's a worker camp just adjacent to the face of the complex with the cooling tower, correct?"_

Batman double checked the layout of the facility. "There is."

 _"If I can borrow a veil of some sort from one of the worker's wives, I might be able to simply walk up to the gates and fly into the tower, provided—"_

"Provided a cause a minor, two second power outage, right?"

 _"Exactly."_

Batman again leaned back in his chair. "It's a brilliant plan…if you can persuade someone to give up their clothes for you."

 _"I can."_

Another pause. Finally, Batman leaned back over the keyboard, and typed a command into the Watchtower's weapon's system. "Alright," he said. "I'm launching a probe in your direction. Give me the word, and I'll hit the grid with an EMP strike."

 _"Understood,"_ Wonder Woman said. _"The camps are just a few metres ahead. I'll find someone close to the tree-line and make sure we're out of sight from the guards. They seem to be concentrated further inwards though, so I shouldn't have too much of an issue."_

Batman was going to add _unless the civilian won't cooperate_ , but he held his tongue, and simply said, "affirmative. EMP standing by."

The thermal dot bounded towards the edge of the clearing, and stopped just as it entered the open air of the workers camp. Despite the rain and the wind, the area was awash with people—men, women, children, an animal or two scattered about. From space the huts looked rotted and decayed, crumbling apart at the seams and barely holding together in the onslaught of the wind. He heard Diana gasp quietly through the speakers.

 _"Hera Bruce, there's so many of them…"_

"Too many to run a power planet, but none of them are healthy enough for an army…"

 _"So they're just hostages for Tuzik, a way to keep his enemies at bay…"_

Batman grunted. "It seems like it." He almost added _and Steel knew this when he approached us_ , but again, he held his tongue. Diana would already have been aware of that fact—she didn't need him repeating it in her ear.

One of the blocks of heat diverted its path towards the tree line, where Diana was lying in wait. Zooming in, Batman saw that it was a tall woman in robes—likely heading to whatever passed for a home in this camp. She passed Diana, and quietly, gently, Diana called out to her in the woman's native tongue.

Bruce listened intently, following the conversation along with his head-piece. The woman was initially frightened, but in a soothing voice Diana reassured her that she wasn't here to harm her or anyone else in the camp. She was scouting ahead, trying to make sure that everything that was going on in the camp and the power plant it was connected to posed no threat to the world, including the people in the camp itself.

She asked for the woman's name, and where she lived, and asked about her family and life in the camp and whether she had enough to eat and drink. The woman was quite, timid, but slowly she began to answer Diana's questions, and when Wonder Woman offered her an outstretched hand, asking her to move into the bushes where they could talk more privately, the woman accepted it, and was guided into the foliage.

It didn't take Wonder Woman very long to persuade the woman to offer up her veil, though Wonder Woman stressed that she'd only take it if she could get to her home and lock herself into her house without fear of reprisal from any guards or significant others. The relief in Diana's face when the woman said that she had a good husband was nearly palpable from space.

Wonder Woman wrapped herself in the woman's veil, and led her quickly to the door of her home. Just as Diana was about to leave, the woman enveloped her in a hug, and spoke to her quietly but with tears nearly brimming in her eyes.

"{Thank you}," she said. "{Thank you for caring}."

Diana stroked her hair, and returned her hug in full. Yet again, Batman couldn't help but smile.

 _"I have a veil,"_ she said into her own communicator. _"I'll let you know when I'm near the gates."_

Batman's smile turned into a smirk, as he tried (and failed) to hold back his snark. "It looks wonderful on you Diana," he said. "But I don't think the boots match."

He saw her look down at her feet on the zoomed in screen, and he swore she saw her eyes roll around in her head from space.

 _"Hera…"_ she said.

"It was a lovely speech though."

 _"How thoughtful of you Bruce."_

She pulled off her boots and tossed them into the trees. _"I suppose I do work better in bare feet anyways,"_ she said with a hint of exasperation.

"I'll be on the lookout for broken glass."

 _"You truly are the kindest man I know."_

She started walking into the compound just as a secondary buzzer in Batman's ear began to blare. Pushing away from the computer, he said to Diana, "Yell if something comes up—Clark's calling me," then pressed a switch on his cowl. The Man of Steel's voice replaced the low static hum of Diana's communicator.

 _"Hey Bruce,"_ he said. _"All the heavy metal in the asteroids will probably make a mess of the signal, so I'm just letting you know that I'm about to drop out of contact."_

"Understood," Bruce said. He waited for the follow-up question.

 _"How is she doing?"_

"There are more civilians involved than we anticipated, but Diana's using that to her advantage. She's doing fine."

 _"So no major signs of trouble?"_

"Clark," Bruce said. "You're doing my job for me."

 _"Sorry it's just that…well you said it yourself—there are a lot of unknowns. Difference is that you get to be on Earth."_

Batman sighed—not out of exasperation, but out of the less-than-frequent times that he and the Man of Steel shared a similar concern. "I know Clark," Bruce said. "But we need a clear head. _Especially_ you—even the Man of Steel can't survive with a punctured space-suit."

 _"I…yeah, I know. Sorry. Just…tell her to be safe, alright?"_

For a moment, Batman was tempted to say _she will be_ , but something in his gut stopped him. That gnawing distrust of Steel and Horne and every other man in Washington who was no doubt clucking their tongues at the news of the JLA's involvement clamped his mouth shut, and forced Batman's ever analytical mind to stop and ponder his words.

The situation was out of his hands—out of even _Wonder Woman's_ hands. She was at the mercy of whatever Tuzik could throw at them, with information that Batman couldn't corroborate or vet, with intentions and motives that he could only vaguely gesture towards. For reasons beyond him, he couldn't outright promise Superman anything.

That realization preceded a wave of doubt and fear that caused Batman to clench his fists with such vigor that he heard the leather material strain in protest.

There were many things the Batman feared—harm to his loved ones, a loss of control, the things that skulked in the shadows but wore tailor made suits in the daytime. This situation was all of those things rolled into one.

Choosing his words carefully, and barely biting back a wave of cynicism (one that would no doubt throw Superman's mission into jeopardy as well), he simply said, "I will Clark. You keep your head up too."

The line closed, and Batman crossed the floor back to the computer. He noticed that Wonder Woman's thermal signature was standing alone near the back gate, only a stone's throw (for her) away from the cooling tower. He pressed the opposite side of his cowl again.

"I'm back," he said.

 _"Is Kal alright?"_

"He's fine—just moving out of radio contact."

 _"Did you tell him to stay safe?"_

"I did." A small smile. "He says to follow my orders to the letter."

 _"Then he surely wants me dead,"_ she said with a light chuckle. Batman, despite the growing pressure behind his temples, felt his smile grow. _"I'm at the tower and awaiting your EMP,"_ she said.

Batman checked the monitors—the probe was hovering just inside the cloud-cover, its weaponized end pointed down towards the facility. The screen flashed white as lightning arced over the waterlogged nuclear plant.

"Hold…" he said.

Thunder cracked, and Batman's thumb slammed into the button. An electric purr, hidden within the thunder, swelled until the atmosphere popped, and below the swirl of charcoal the facility fell into darkness. The thunder still rolled as Wonder Woman tossed off her veil and took to the skies, reaching the cooling tower and its billows of steam in less than a second. Gracefully, she descended the tower, until she passed a small opening that she easily slid into. Static filled Batman's ear as the radio waves bounced off the thick concrete.

A second later, the static faded, replaced by Wonder Woman's voice.

 _"I'm in,"_ she said. _"In the rafters, just like you said."_ There was a pause. _"I think I hear voices. Familiar ones too."_

Unconsciously, Batman held his breath. He now had no visual contact with Wonder Woman—merely the radio communicator that he hoped (and almost prayed) would maintain a solid connection despite her being buried under a mass of dirt, concrete, and radioactive isotopes.

He heard the voices too, growing and growing the close Wonder Woman got to the source. He heard bare skin slide against metal—almost silent and barely picked up by the sensitive speakers.

Then, the shuffling stop, and he swore he heard Wonder Woman gasp under her breath.

"Diana?" he asked.

 _"I see him Bruce,"_ she said. _"I see Tuzik…"_

She paused. _"But I there's not a single meta-human in sight…"_

 _ **End Part 3**_

* * *

 ***Mumble grumble gripe***


	4. Chapter 4

**Jesus, this was more delayed than an issue of ASBAR...I hope you guys think this is _better_ than ASBAR though. Because if not I should probably be shot...**

 **So...yeah, here's the finale. Let me know if this chapter sucks.**

 **Like I'm not going to re-write it or anything, I just want to be able to flog myself appropriately.**

* * *

 _ **Part 4:**_

 ** _Biayla:_**

"…and there's not a single meta-human in sight," Wonder Woman said, her eyes scanning the area below her. Hidden in shadows, she could see the entire concourse area under the inactive cooling tower—scores of armoured and armed soldiers paced back and forth, attending to artillery placements and several of the large vehicles that weren't covered by tarps. Computer monitors blinked blue in the corners of the large atrium, and with her enhanced vision she could clearly make out the detailed cutaways of Quarcian border fortifications and airspace vulnerabilities highlighted on each screen.

It didn't take her long to find Tuzik either—still covered in copious military medals that he had never earned, wearing the same fringed cape in an effort to stand even further out from the rest of the rabble and cannon fodder he surrounded himself with. A conscious effort, she knew—Tuzik may have looked the part of the arm-chair general, but she had encountered few others atop the vast armies of Man's World with the same desire to get their own hands dirty.

No, Tuzik never shied away from ripping out the throat of someone personally.

The opposite end of her communicator remained quiet. Deep down, both she and Batman weren't in the least bit surprised by this development. Unlike Diana however, Bruce would no doubt be devoting half of his brainpower to analyzing how and when and why President Horne or Sarge Steel, or maybe even the entire US Defense complex itself, decided to betray them.

That kind of thinking would do them no good now. Pressing her finger to her ear, she intended to put a stop to it as best as she could.

"Do Steel's schematics say anything about the exit points in this building?"

 _"Not happening. I'm pulling you out Diana,"_ Batman said, _"I can have a second EMP drone down there in 10 minutes to cover your escape, but you're not..."_

Diana moved herself closer to the centre of the room, shuffling quietly over the cold metal of the rafters. As she did, he kept her finger on her communicator in her ear, and tried to keep as reserved a tone as possible.

"I'm here and I have eyes on Tuzik," she said. "Whatever he's doing with these weapons and these soldiers is too important to wait for a second team. Especially with the number of civilians just outside the facility."

 _"Every scarp of information the DoD and the DMA gave me is now suspect,"_ Batman said, his voice growing on urgent. _"You're completely blind and isolated down there_ —use your head Diana, we need to regroup."

She knew he was trying to bludgeon his way to victory—trying to get a rise out of her so that he could fall back on the cold logic of his words. But Wonder Woman had learned first hand that his demeanor was far from emotionally sterile in these circumstances. Bruce was afraid—afraid of the unknowns and the questions and all the wild cards that were no doubt hidden from them at this very moment, but most of all, he was afraid for her and her safety. He trusted her, but he also cared deeply for her. His belligerence was little more than pure emotion wrapped in a veil of detached logic.

Having learned this long ago meant that Diana, more than anyone else in the League, was exceptionally suitable for dealing with these moods. Herself caring deeply for Bruce as well, she could appeal to the hidden worries and buried love that drove his actions and words, just like he'd be able to turn her thoughts inwards towards the calculus that drove her own thoughts. More often than not, they could reach common ground.

But Diana was many things, one of which was being open about her opinions, beliefs, and emotions. Right now, she was prepared to stop Tuzik before he could darken the world of whatever his target might be. Right now, she refused to back down.

"None of that matters," she said, a bit of ice working its way into her words. "I'm not going to leave this country until I'm sure that Tuzik posses no threat to anyone."

She heard a sharp growl on the other end of her line, just as she repositioned herself within striking distance of the General. _"For all we know, you're just doing what two squads of DEVGRU commandoes couldn't pull off. Tuzik might not even be the threat this time Diana."_

Diana uncoiled her limbs, and eased herself back into the shadows. "Do you truly distrust Steel that much?"

 _"Show me the 'meta-human threat' and I'll change my stance."_

"They made a _mistake_ Bruce. You and I both know..."

 _"_ You _and I both know that a mistake in politics is just a criminal getting caught."_

Diana and Bruce both sighed in unison, their argument having already drained their continually decreasing reserve to fight with one another. Diana's mind flashed back to their conversation on the Watchtower, where Bruce had pointed to the Earth and declared that thousands of Tuzik's scurried over its surface—some of them, he alluded, wore the American flag on their uniforms.

She didn't doubt that, having experienced more than her fair share of corrupt politicians and soldiers. She did her best to take everyone at their word, but a bit of skepticism, she had come to appreciate, was healthy for one's continued life in the political arena. For her though, she never let it border on paranoia, nor did she let it consume her.

She was sure of one thing in this situation, and that one thing was that Batman was wrong.

"Bruce," she said, her voice much softer now. "When I said you were blind, what do you think I meant?"

There was a pause as Batman contemplated the question, and her eyes scanned over the bustling below her—her limbs prepared to pounce in the event that Tuzik made a move for what looked like an exit. A second more passed before Batman's voice, now softer in it's own right, appeared back on the comm-link.

 _"You were telling me that there are more people like you out in the world than I give them credit for,"_ he said. _"The room you're in right now should...should show you why I think you're wrong."_

That last comment lacked the venom that Batman's words could sometimes carry, and as such, Diana remained calm and collected. "No Bruce," she said. "You don't know me as well as you think." She paused and stood on the rafters—Tuzik hadn't moved yet, he was still deeply engrossed in what she could barely make out as an intelligence briefing siphoned from a defunct East German Intelligence Network. "Your Commissioner Gordon and I aren't exceptional Bruce, we're just people who try to do good in the world. And sometimes we fail." She paused again, noticing that Batman didn't interrupt—a good sign that he was listening respectfully.

"What I was trying to tell you was that most of humanity is the same—they try to do good, and sometimes they fail. But where as you see my failures as simply a momentary slip, you've grown so jaded and cynical that you see other's mishaps as being malicious and malevolent. I was trying to tell you that you were wrong."

 _"Diana_ —" Bruce's voice was lower, calmer. "— _Steel and Horne aren't just "others", they're..."_

"They are Bruce, they're just people in extraordinary circumstances. I don't always agree with them, and they may be more prone to slip-ups than is ideal, but I meant it when I said they're just like me—they're idealists, trying to make a difference. Steel was right to say that the world makes the President's legacy, but Horne is trying. And Steel said that he wouldn't ask for my help if he didn't think I needed it. I trust him..." she paused. "So do you trust _me_?"

A silence hung over her, one which told Diana that she had managed to work her way to Batman's inner struggle. A soft sign followed, and Batman lightly said into her ear piece, _"I trust you."_

"Then please Bruce," she said. "Find out what you can about this room while I try and talk Tuzik down."

 _"Alright...I'm on it now."_

The line went dead, leaving Wonder Woman alone with Tuzik and his hidden army. Batman would still be listening, as he always was, but he was officially handing off control to her—fully and completely. As ready as she felt she confidently could be, Diana stepped off from the metal rafters, and started to fall towards the ground, her arms spread and her legs ready to meet the floor. Halfway down, her voice booming with authority, she called out to the General.

"TUZIK!"

The massed troops turned suddenly to face her as her bare feet impacted with the ground. She ignored them, staring straight towards the figure of General Tuzik, his face lit with a shock that—the longer Diana stared him down—began to slowly shift into a noticeable smirk.

Diana knew Tuzik well, perhaps better than any other member of the Justice League. She knew that the only thought in his mind at that moment was the came of chess he was about to play with one of the world's most powerful heroes—and how he would revel in it for as long as he willed.

"I want to ask how you managed to sneak in, Wonder Woman," he said, handing off the touch-pad he was pouring over to the nearest technician. The lanky scientist nearly toppled over the exaggerated force of Tuzik's shove—a pre-emptive show of power before his game fully began. "But I'm sure it will ultimately have been simple to the point of banality."

Tuzik's soldiers, having finally recovered from their initial shock, began to surround Wonder Woman, their weapons drawn out in front of them. Behind her, Diana could hear the groan of tanks roughly forced to life, their heavy main canon's no doubt aimed right at her back, despite the collateral mayhem a smoothbore round would do in such a confined space. Again, she ignored the soldiers. As did Tuzik, it appeared, as he separated the honor-guard that had formed in front of him in order to move closer to Diana.

"I'm going to ask you to evacuate the work camps around the facility," Diana said. "I see no reason why you should endanger their lives."

Tuzik didn't move. The ring of computers and monitors that spread out around him created the illusion of a podium, and the General, decked out in his medals and his uniform, was treating it as such. His arms crossed, and his smirk on the verge of becoming a sneer, Tuzik scoffed and scratched at his black goatee.

"Sure you can," he said. "You are, after all, a warrior. You know the value of a town held hostage."

He moved from behind his make-shift podium, and Wonder Woman's eyes followed. "A warrior, a _true_ warrior, understands the value of sparing lives as well. And they'd never put innocents in danger—that's the realm of cowards." She turned to address the mass of soldiers around her. "Are you an army of cowards? Or have you prevented Tuzik from robbing you of your dignity?"

Another scoff from Tuzik, though Diana was more focused on the murmurs and shifting eyes of the crowd, now far less committed than they had been when they surrounded her. The General remained unimpressed however, as he and his honor guard closed in on Wonder Woman. "You can save your speeches Amazon, they will only get you so far. Ignorance may be bliss, but it will do you no favours here." He motioned to the dagger sheathed on her thigh. "Otherwise you wouldn't have packed so light."

"I came here with non-violent intentions," Wonder Woman said, moving closer herself and, noticeably, without much resistance from Tuzik's soldiers. "If you cooperate, then I will not deviate from them."

Tuzik chuckled, now standing right in front of her. "But no reprieve from the harsh tribunals for me."

"You already know my answer."

"As you know mine," he said. With his cloak swirling behind him, he turned his back on Diana, and his place in front of her was replaced by the scowling faces of a very loyal, and exceptionally armed honor guard, who Diana was only now getting a clear view of their heavy rifles and equipment. As she stared, a slight burst of static in her ear signaled to her that Batman was back on the line. Silently, she listened.

 _"There are only two exits, both of which are just next to the super-structure of the cooling tower,"_ Batman said. _"The big one's probably for vehicles_ — _the smaller one leads directly to the helipad on the roof."_

"Besides—" Tuzik had moved beside the technician, his eyes still focused solely on Diana, "—international law is hardly on your side here, no matter what Pentagon PR tells you."

In her ear, Batman remained silent, though Diana thought she detected a barely restrained grunt through the oscillating static. Knowing Bruce, she'd hardly be surprised.

She too remained silent, and instead met Tuzik's blatant challenge with a stare of her own. Unfazed, Tuzik pointed to the technician. "Tell her, good sir. Tell her who you are and what you do."

The man swallowed hard, but managed to pull from within himself enough courage to step forward and address Diana as powerfully as he could. She wasn't sure how much strength that act required, but it surely was not insignificant. He seemed to Diana to be principled if not fully convicted—something she could potentially use to her advantage, if she needed.

Clearing his throat, the technician spoke in heavily accented English. "I am from Biaylan Department of Public Works, Wonder Woman. I am not warrior, but civil contractor, here to ensure promised upgrades for nuclear generator are installed." He pointed behind him, towards a series of enclosed containers baring the markings of both General Electric and—to her dismay—LexCorp. The technician continued. "Sir Dvory Tuzik is benefactor for us."

"I provided the technology and funds to finally bring the Biaylian power grid into the 21st century—" Tuzik was now almost leering over his make-shift podium, "—and all I asked in return was for a portion to go to their aging military, and all the diplomatic immunity that comes with holding an office of the state." He pointed to a golden symbol on his uniform. "I am Bialya's most senior defense advisor—not quite the Minister of Defense just yet, but most divisions report to me with gusto."

Wonder Woman could barely contain her snarl as she put the pieces together verbally.

"And now you have an army with which you can strike at anyone, correct?"

Tuzik chuckled. "Hardly. I serve at the pleasure of the President, after all."

Ignoring him, Diana looked at the technician, her eyes as soft as she could make them. "But you _don't_ , not in this capacity." She gestured around her. "I know you can see where all of this is leading. I believe you joined this government to do good, to serve and help people." She offered out her hand, but her eyes passed over the entire floor, expressing that this gesture applied to anyone in the room willing to receive it. "Please, don't abandon that. If you step away from this Siren-in-uniform, if you cast him out of your country, if you _heed_ any of the words I say, then you're just as much a hero as I am. _More so_ perhaps."

Despite the speech, Tuzik's expression remained predatory. "Follow her," he said, "and you'll only live long enough to see your families gutted."

Before Wonder Woman could react, a burst of static hissed in her ear. _"He's trying to rile you up Diana,"_ Batman said. _"We have to scrap this_ — _you're in a no win situation..."_

"I'd listen to the Bat, if that is in fact who you're talking to," Tuzik said. Diana couldn't help but be surprised—neither could Batman, for that matter. Of the two though, Diana's was the most restrained, what with it having to war with an increasing sense of fatigue and, to her dismay, anger, at Tuzik's antics. The General continued unaware of this, and slowly worked his way back through the crowd to Diana, leaving the podium empty. "I can't lie to you Wonder Woman, my mind is rarely at peace unless I'm in the midst of a power grab. Bialya's army is crude, but it's population is numerous enough that the rest of the region would crumble at the treads of it's tanks, provided I modernize them first." Reaching Diana, his face twisted into a grotesque impression of a smile. "But I don't have a single plan for that in my mind at the moment, Miss Diana. I truly am concerned only with getting this plant up and running, if for no other reason than to acquire favour from the President and the populous. But you know what is truly spectacular about all of this? Why I simply joined the cabinet of a country, as opposed to conquering it for my own?"

He leaned in close. "I don't even _need_ to come up with a plan. My _government_ will do it for me. And I'll execute it with the diligence of a Lance Corporal. Anytime, any place, anyone, Wonder Woman. I just have to wait for the order." Rearing back to his full height, he crossed his arms and smirked in silent victory. "After all, war...is God."

It was then that she heard it—just as Tuzik's face stretched back into a grin. A ticking noise—faint, concealed behind layers of wood and metal. One of the LexCorp containers was ticking, and in her experience, whenever something ticked...

The explosion ripped apart the cooling tower's walls, collapsing concrete, rebar, and sparking wires onto the atrium floor. A cloud of smoke rushed forward just ahead of the fire and the noise. The technician was shrouded in confusion and dust just before his body was torn apart by pressure and flame.

Tuzik and Diana ducked as the wave of destruction swept overhead, sending smoldering soldiers and chunks of the building flying past them. Diana noticed the pieces of the building first, and panic settled in her gut like a thrashing animal. A shrill siren confirmed all her fears—the core had been destabilized, and the entire facility was in the process of catastrophic meltdown.

Getting her bearings, Diana looked around her at the chaos. Bodies were strewn everywhere, but Tuzik's wasn't among them. Through the screaming and the wail of the siren, Diana heard Bruce's frantic voice in her ear.

 _"_ — _happened Diana? What the hell just happened?"_

"One of the LexCorp crates just exploded! The entire facility's about to—"

 _"Jesus Christ,"_ Batman swore, _"How many people are still in the atrium?"_

Diana quickly looked around. "Almost a dozen!"

 _"Get them out and then_ YOU _get the hell out!"_

"I need a drone or something to track Tuzik!" Wonder Woman said, picking up fallen and dazed soldiers "If we let him escape there's no telling what he'll do!"

 _"It'll take a minute, unless I just use thermal to track fleeing heat signatures, but Jesus Diana, you need to hurry!"_

"Hera Bruce, I know!" They were both panicked, the sounds of chaos threatening to drown out their voices. Having helped two more soldiers to their feet, she noticed the rumbling emanating from deep within the Earth started to grow, as the superstructure around her groaned like a wounded warrior. "{Quickly everyone!}" she screamed over the sound. "{Follow me! I'll make an exit!}"

Surging ahead, and with a platoon's worth of surviving soldiers and civilian contractors following her, Diana plowed head first through solid wall and rock, until she had smashed away the bedrock of the hill where the facility stood. Daylight poured through the opening as bodies streamed through.

"{I don't know how much time you have!}" she said. "{Run as fast as you can as far as you can—we'll have decontamination units find you once the fallout has cleared!}"

A contractor roughly grabbed at her arm. "{But what of our families? They are still in the camp!}"

Shock hit Wonder Woman like an errant punch. "Hera," she said, her finger pressing on her ear. "Bruce, the camps—"

 _"Evacuating as fast as they can manage,"_ he said, his voice still hurried. _"I think Tuzik's there too."_

"Then that's where I'm going."

 _"Diana_ —"

"I'm either going to find Tuzik, or help evacuate. That's _non-negotiable_ Bruce.

 _"We don't_ —"

"BRUCE!"

The pause at the other end lasted less than a second. " _Alright. Drone's on it's way, I'll keep trying to get someone to answer their coms."_

"Thank you," she said. Turning to the contractor still standing next to her, and lifting off from the ground at the same time, she said, "{I'll find them, and I'll help them.}" In a burst of air that kicked up the dust around her, she took off for the camp...

...

...

...

 ** _JLA Watchtower:_**

 ** _Simultaneous with the meltdown in Bialya_**

Batman ran through his list of priority calls with startling speed, having received no answers from the most capable League members save for Captain Adam, who—like Superman—was off planet. All the big guns, for one reason or another, were either dark or unavailable. He thought about calling D.C, about contacting the White House and demanding both an explanation and support. Instead, he bludgeoned his way into the Pentagon's communications network in the fleeting hope that he'd corner the Joint Chiefs and Steel and Horne before they could weasel their way out of their responsibility.

Unsurprisingly, he thought, there were no communications—the Pentagon was on lockdown.

He launched the probe by pounding his fist into the control panel, rattling the machinery and causing the images to sputter on the monitors. Standing over the still shaking computer, Batman noticed that his breath was heavy and ragged. A small, nearly non-existent part of him was thankful that no one could see how vulnerable he looked at the moment—an overwhelming portion of himself however wished, more than ever, that he had some form of help.

 _Dammit Clark, I could really use you right now._

His eyes drifted from the general direction of Mars back to the monitors, where the highlighted heat signature that was Diana bounded over the rocky terrain and into the camp. Other heat signatures scattered in every direction—some of them, though, stayed statue-esq amid the chaos. Diana stopped and hoisted some to their feet, bellowing out orders to anyone near by with frantic, panicked gestures. Batman's heart sank—Diana wouldn't be able to save all of them, there were just too many civilians still in the compound.

And it increasingly looked like Diana knew that too.

An alarm sounded on one of the monitors focused on the rapidly decaying core. Temperatures were reaching critical faster than anticipated, but the computer couldn't get an accurate reading on the stability of the core itself. Too many isotopes were scattering in the old and rusted bowels of the facility, and any readings taken from the Watchtower were scrambled far past the point of accuracy. He glanced nervously at the ETA for the drone: 7 minutes...7 minutes too many.

He should tell her to abandon the plant, he though. Tell her to take whoever she could carry and make for the safety of the bay. But he knew that would only lead to another argument—she was well aware that many lives were about to be lost. Right now, Diana was fighting to make sure this could never happen again.

 _Then she's going after the wrong person,_ a voice in his head growled.

A second, quieter alarm pulled his attention to a different monitor. His sensors finally had a positive ID on Tuzik—pushing through the swirling crowds, it seemed like he was making a break for the nearest car-depot. Not surprising—any escape helicopter he had likely been destroyed when the cooling tower went up in flames.

"I've got him," he said. "Half a mile up from your position. No guards. He's heading for the vehicle depot."

 _"Got it. Thank you Bruce."_

"Diana you have to—"

 _"I am Bruce,"_ she said, and he could tell that she had just lifted off into the air. _"I am hur_ **zztzz** _"_

"Diana? DIANA!"

The monitors wavered again as the feed struggled to maintain coherency. He had no idea what just happened, but all his equipment—the read-outs, the JLA communicator, every monitor save for thermal—it all died on him. Lit by only the dull grey and shifting orange of his sole remaining window to the situation in Bialya, Batman was cast into a haunting, suffocating silence.

3 minutes...the drone would enter Bialya in 3 minutes...until then, all he had was two vague shapes representing the still beating hearts of Tuzik and Diana. It was like having an out of body experience halfway through a nightmare...

Diana landed just behind Tuzik, near the edge of the forest region she had used to sneak in. He had stopped running, likely having heard her approach despite the cacophony around him. Diana too stopped advancing just as Tuzik...god, there was a second heat signature ghosting in and out of Tuzik's main mass. He had a hostage...

Slowly, Diana moved forward. The mass that represented Tuzik ebbed and flowed as the hostage wriggled in his grasp. Batman watched on as the silence thudded in his ears, morphing into a shrill ringing the longer he stared. The drone drew closer, but it was unarmed—the best he could do with it was fly low enough to distract Tuzik, enabling Diana to strike...

The drone faded away in Batman's thoughts though, as Tuzik detached himself from the smaller heat signature. The third ball of orange wavered in between Diana and Tuzik for only a second...

...then a pure burst of heat emanating from Tuzik sliced through the hostage, and struck Diana dead centre in the chest. Both Diana's and the hostage's core temperature plummeted...

...and Batman screamed.

...

...

...

 ** _Bialya:_**

Diana hadn't reacted quickly enough. There was a flash of steel just under Tuzik's coat, and the brief image of LexCorp's insidious logo, but her attention had been solely focused on the small girl held captive in the General's arms. Trying to reassure the child, and trying to draw Tuzik out and away from the innocent life he held in his grasp, she hadn't noticed him level the gun at her. Not until he pushed the child out in front of him, and fired through her abdomen.

The beam passed through the child and, with lightning fast reflexes, impacted Diana's bracelets. Except...the beam wasn't deflected—the mystical metal shattered into a thousand pieces, and scorching heat ate away at the skin, muscle bone in her wrist. She had barely enough time to scream in pain before the beam ripped apart her right lung.

The child dropped with her, spitting out the blood that filled her airways. Tuzik stared on—perhaps shocked at his own senseless brutality. Diana wasn't sure. All she was focusing on was working through the pain and unfastening the poisoned dagger attached to her thigh. Her eyes stayed on the child as she fumbled with the strap, praying that she would return her stare so that Diana could offer her as much comfort as she could give.

Her fingers closed around the handle just as Tuzik snapped into awareness again. Throwing the gun to the ground, he started towards the trees...

...but the spring loaded blade found his leg before he could break into a sprint. With a garbled cry of shock, he collapsed into the foliage, leaving Diana and dying child alone amidst the apocalypse.

She let out a cough that rattled her ribcage, and saw the streaks of blood that spread out in front of her. She was dying too, she realized.

Drawing on all her strength, she pushed herself off the ground to her knees, and began to crawl towards the child, who she could hear was beginning to sob in retching, wet shudders. She pressed her fingers to her ear. "Bruce..." she said. "B-Bruce...c-can you..." All she heard was static, and with a sigh she released her communicator.

Reaching the girl, she gently lifted her off the ground and cradled her like a newborn child. Despite the heat-based weapon, the body was cold, though she was sure her body was no warmer.

"I w-will be here for you, c-child," she said softly, as the shuddering grew weak. She parted a red-strained strand of hair out of the girl's face, and looked into her eyes. Weakly, she smiled. "You a-and I w-will go together—" she intertwined her fingers with the girls, "—as s-sisters..."

The child's crying grew quiet, and Diana held the tiny body tighter, pressing her hand against her heart. Her thoughts drifted to Bruce, and immediately she was bombarded with memories equally beautiful and heart-wrenching. There was much to be said that would be left un-said, just as many of the things she had wished to do with Bruce would be forced to fall away. She almost laughed—it had taken all of her willpower to convince Bruce to finally go on vacation, and like a cliché, they were only two weeks away from leaving the worries of their lives behind, for at least a little while. She said a prayer to Kal that he would have the strength to look after Bruce, and again she felt heart ache at having never been able to say goodbye to her first and dearest friend in Man's-World. Most of all though, her heart ached at what she surely knew this would do Bruce's already tortured soul.

Her limbs began to tingle, and it was growing harder to keep her eyes open. The boots of Tuzik hadn't moved from the spot where he collapsed, and though she regretted it ending this way, she at least felt at peace knowing that the General wouldn't survive what was going to happen.

Just as she was about to close her eyes, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Looking through blurred vision, she saw the face of the woman who had given her veil to Diana in nearly this very same spot, wearing a warm and welcoming smile. Diana nearly choked as she attempted to speak.

"{Y-you have to l-leave}," she said, motioning towards the smoking ruins of the plant. "{Th-there might s-still be...}"

"{No,}" said the woman. "{There isn't. And besides, I won't let you die alone.}" She enveloped Diana in a hug, and nestled her face into Wonder Woman's now ice-cold neck. "{Because you cared.}"

Diana welcomed the embrace, squeezing the woman's hand and the child's body as hard as she could still manage. _I wish Bruce could see this_ , she said to herself.

Then, looking up at the sky, she saw the shimmering reflection of a drone approach her like a bat out of hell. _Maybe he can, then..._ she thought, as she soent the last remaining energy she had on one large, content smile.

A muted explosion erupted behind her, and just as the wave of heat reached her, the child, and the praying woman, Wonder Woman felt herself slip into peacefulness.

...

...

...

 _ **Washington D.C:**_

 _ **One Day Later:**_

Clark would realize eventually that Bruce hadn't gone to Themyscira. After that, he could probably guess where Bruce had actually headed. They had known each other long enough—if anything he was surprised that Clark didn't stop him from leaving period.

It didn't matter now though—Bruce would be finished in the capital soon enough. Standing in the thick of a tree just outside the White House compound, with rain and wind battering his face, Batman was only a stone's throw away from the people who killed Diana. The people who would go unpunished for their crimes if he stood aside and did nothing.

The drone he had sent captured only enough footage to assure Bruce that the last time he'd see Diana alive was through a murky computer screen some two hundred thousand miles away from her. A very select few of the most powerful members of the Justice League arrived on scene—too little too late—just before Bruce, with nuclear fallout and fire still billowing upwards. Encased in as strong a hazmat suit as he could find, Bruce plowed through the crowd, out into the crater that less than an hour ago had been a nuclear power plant—now forever the putrid resting place of the only person to ever break through the black abyss that was Batman. Kyle had tried to stop him from going out, saying that the suit might not be able to stand up to the radiation.

He shouldn't have broken Kyle's nose, but at this point, Batman no longer cared.

The magical clay that was Diana had afforded her body enough durability that she sat alone as a blackened monument, while all around her—including Tuzik—were atomized. He could barely make out any features after the shockwave and the heat took it's toll on her, but all the same, he knelt in front of her and hung his head just as he would at the foot of his parents graves. He would have stayed like that for days if Superman hadn't quietly landed at his side, and placed his hand on Batman's shoulder. They stayed there for a few more moments, two grieving friends, before Clark carried Bruce to his plane, and up they went into the Watchtower.

Now he was here—just outside of the White House, with the raging storm barely drowning out the intense furnace of anger that burned in Batman's soul, that left the foul taste of betrayal lingering on Batman's tongue. Gritting his teeth, he reached into his utility belt, pulled out a long-range dart launcher, and placed a listening device into the appropriate slot. Aiming it at the window that afforded the President his startling view of the capital, Batman fired, and waited, and listened.

When the voices started, he pushed record—ready to collect evidence in the event that there was anything intelligible left of Steel or Horne after he was done with them.

 _"It...it was our bomb, wasn't it?"_ Horne said.

 _"Yeah,"_ said Steel. His voice sounded weak.

 _"Jesus. What the hell happened?"_

 _"We...I don't know, sir. I really don't."_

 _"That's not good enough soldier..."_

 _"Mr. President, you don't have to tell me twice. It was a rookie agent, he made a mistake somewhere along the line. I don't know. It doesn't matter though_ — _all that matters is she's dead."_

 _"Jesus,"_ The President repeated.

Batman continued to listen. He didn't expect a congratulatory party—at least not within view of the public. But the conversation wasn't going how he had imagined. They almost sounded...sad.

 _"Has the League said anything yet?"_ Horne asked.

 _"No, not yet. At least not to the public."_

 _"Alright...then we'll hold our tongue too. We need to say something eventually, but...let them be the ones to break the news."_

 _"You sure that's a good idea?"_

 _"Respect, Steel. We have to show it to them."_

 _"Respect was the reason we blacked out the Pentagon, and..."_

Batman heard the President sigh. _"I know, Steel. I know. Mistakes were made...let's not make another one."_

Batman found that his fists had unclenched, and that his teeth no longer ground together. The wind and the rain picked up their intensity, as did the lightning and the thunder, but all Batman was concentrating on was the conversation taking place less than a football field away. The thunder faded away as Diana's words repeated in his mind, over and over again, almost glowing from the warmth and humanity she granted them. He felt cold and, increasingly, guilty, weighed down by an apology he new he could never deliver, and one that so much of his darkness refused to recognize.

 _"We shouldn't have sent a bomb anyways,"_ Steel said. _"If Diana came back with bad news, we should have just let her deal with it. Sneaking in a remote detonator with the cargo..."_

 _"Steel, I don't need to be reminded about how we fucked up. And we did, we fucked up badly. It's cost us immeasurably and I have to deal with that, but reliving everything piece by piece..."_

 _"Is the only way I'll be able to go up to the League and tell them how fucking sorry I am without shooting myself in the goddamn head. Diana trusted me, and I let her down."_ There was a pause, and through Batman's enhanced visors, he saw the shaded form of Steel appear at the window. _"I make one mistake and I end up killing a friend. So don't tell me about how you feel shitty, Mr. President."_

Batman heard the sound of a chair rolling away, and soon Steel was joined at the window by the President. He felt like he was in the room now, felt like it was his own thoughts and beliefs being torn apart by guilt. _"I'm sorry son, I am. I just...didn't need to feel worse about my own mistake."_

Bruce listened on, but by this point he had shrunk away inside his cloak.

 _"There's only one thing we can do then, Mr. President,"_ Steel said. _"And that's live up to what she thought of us."_

 _"I know. I know dammit. And we should start in Bialya too, since it's obvious that something's going down there. But..."_ he paused. _"How the hell are we ever going to look the JLA in the eyes again? How the hell are they going to_ let us _look them in the eyes?"_

They carried their conversation on, unaware that Batman had since abandoned his position on the tree, grappled over the roof of the White House, and landed just at the edge of the compound. He walked through the rain and the wind as Secret Service Agents swarmed around him, unsure of whether to draw their weapons or radio in for extra assistance. Batman stopped just in front of the main entrance, and turned to the nearest guard. "I need to speak to the President," he said, his voice neutral. Taken aback, the Agent stuttered before radioing into the compound. After a brief second of silence, he motioned Batman trough the doors, all the while darting his vision back and forth to make sure he wasn't in some way dreaming.

Crowds gathered in the halls as a soaking wet Batman silently walked ahead, his white eyes seemingly never straying from the path straight ahead of him. He soon reached the doors to the Oval Office, and four heavily armoured Agents, with looks of apprehension visible under their visors, opened the locked doors and granted him his audience with the President.

Bruce entered the room slowly. Horne was standing behind his desk, with Steel just over his left shoulder. Clearing his throat, and glancing nervously at Steel, he addressed his visitor. "What...what can I do for you, son?"

Batman said nothing, though Steel and Horne could tell he was trying. The white slits of his eyes dropped to the ground, and is posture slouched. With a voice raspy with weariness, Batman finally raised his head, and spoke.

"Before Diana...died, I...recorded her conversation with Tuzik. It...might not be enough for legal action, but it should give your intelligence operatives a clear enough picture of Bialya's internal affairs to plan accordingly."

The President slowly sank into his chair, while Steel felt himself leaning against the window, unsure if he was going into shock or experiencing the long eluded sensation of relief. Batman continued.

"Everyone in this room made a lot of mistakes the other day, and...and we're going to have trouble coming to grips with that. But...but we can't let that stop us from trusting one another, not when we're all just...just human." Reaching into his cloak, he pulled put a small data drive and, walking forward—and hearing the rustle of armour move into position behind him—he placed it on the President's desk. Horne waved off his guards, and he and Steel stared into the face of Batman. A face that seemed almost...remorseful.

"I'll help you," Batman said. "I'll help you as much as I can." He paused, and again his head began to fall to the floor. "For Diana."

Slowly the President rose from his seat. He and Steel walked around the desk to Batman's side.

Without uttering a word, the President placed his hand gently on Batman's shoulder, and both his head and Steel's joined Batman's as they closed their eyes, and remembered Diana.

 _ **The End**_

* * *

 **Was that cheesy? That felt cheesy to me. Damn emotions** — **I should just stick to the funnies.**

 **ALSO, please, by all means, call me out if you think I stuffed Wonder Woman in the fridge. Like I don't think I did because, unlike say Kyle Rayner's girlfriend, I didn't kill Wonder Woman to motivate Batman. Actually the reason I did that was, after watching the aforementioned episode of The Sandbaggers, I noticed some similarities between two characters and came up with the nugget of an idea that wasn't actually going to go into detail about what happened to Wonder Woman, but after I started writing it I realized I could do a hell of a lot better than just a pure fluff story, and actually get into a talk about idealism and stuff like that. Which is partially why Part One got cut off where it did, because I took the plot in a completely different direction than I intended (by actually including a plot) If...that makes sense.**

 **So yeah, don't think I did, but I'd be an awfully bad feminist if I complained about stuff like that and then did the dirty deed myself without at least trying to make sure I, well, didn't...**

 **Check my stupidity, that's what the children call it.**


End file.
